Cashier Woes
by Turnabout Writer
Summary: "Because Apollo doesn't get paid much by Phoenix, he gets a crappy job as a cashier." Written for the PWKM - now extended, a collection of tales detailing Apollo's strange encounters ringing up the purchases of his acquaintances.
1. Chapter 1

**Cashier Woes**

" **Because Apollo doesn't get paid much by Phoenix, he gets a crappy job as a cashier." Written for the PWKM.**

 **A/N: Changes have been made from the original post from the PWKM to reflect the news released about the setting of Spirit of Justice.**

 **A very special thanks to my dear friend and Beta, _MildeAmasoj_! Be sure to check out her amazing stories, too!**

 ** ** ** ** ** ** **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is copyright © 2016 _Turnabout Writer_** **. All rights reserved.**************

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"So, just call me 'Grandma!' It's practically my name! Even when I was young, I was an Oldbag, but not really—that was just my name, dearie. Still how the other children would make fun of me and just because of my name—can you believe it? But there was this boy, the captain of the chess club in junior high . . . "

Apollo tries his best to drone out the old lady's voice and resists the urge to bang his head against the counter.

He's taken a job at the local convenience and pharmacy store up the block from the Wright Anything Agency. The money he has started to receive from working here, combined with the little salary Mr. Wright pays him, is only just enough to get by. Since it's a fairly new job—Apollo only starting five days ago—he hasn't told anyone yet.

So far, cashiering hasn't been so bad. The place has been fairly empty, with the exception of his manager and another girl who works the shift before him.

As this old lady's mouth runs miles a minute, he scans her purchases. She's too grossed into her own story to notice Apollo shudder when he scans the small, rectangular box of vaginal itch cream. As he scans the rest of her items and suppresses his repulsion at some of her other purchases, a blurry, blue figure catches his eye.

 _Huh? Who was that?_ He looks back at the Oldbag, who is still talking and has not taken notice of the figure.

"Can you believe when we got married, he said, 'I guess I'm stuck—'"

Apollo peers over the old hag on his toes, his eyes anxiously sweeping through the aisles. Something is stirring at the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly knows that something bad is about to happen. He has to try to keep a lookout on this silhouette.

"—should've whispered in my ear, 'I don't deserve you… but I can't help it. Will you marry me?' Honestly, men these days!" Wendy Oldbag finishes, panting, as if she has finished running a marathon. She stops breathing heavily when she notices Apollo's hands are still frozen on the itch cream, and his head is moving around, looking everywhere but at her. Her eyes narrow in anger. "HEY! HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME? I swear, you whippersnappers these days! Back in my day . . . "

But he still hasn't heard a word she's said. His interest has been captured in the mysterious figure. He can't help but wonder why he thinks it looks familiar to him.

 _*Rata-tat-tat-tat-tat...*_

 _Aaaaaaaagh, what the hell!?_ Apollo jumps, taken aback by the mysterious sound. With his eyes widened in terror and bottom teeth pulling at his upper lip, he glances at the object that Oldbag has pointed towards him. His glance gives way to the fleeting thought that she's aiming an actual gun at him, as he recalls that she mentioned something about being a security guard.

"ACK! MA'AM, I'M SORRY! PLEASE _,_ DON'T SHOOT ME!" he shouts out, his palms outstretched in front of him, as he backs away slowly from her. This lady can't kill him.

Oldbag ceases her movements, but the colorful gun is still aimed at Apollo. "Why are you talking so loud, sonny?"

Apollo points to the gun with a trembling finger.

"Hah! This thing? The men of my days were braver and faced danger. They wouldn't be scared off by a toy gun!"

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of Apollo's face, his eyes narrow, and his hair droops down in exasperation. He wants to let out his Chords of Steel like he would in court, but doesn't want to risk losing his job. _I-It was a fucking toy gun?!_

"—and they would listen to what I would say, enchanted by my melodious voice . . . ," she continues, though that's the last of what a now exasperated Apollo hears, passing her items under the scanner, bagging them, and then handing her the bag with brusque movements. She still talks as she hands him the money, completely engrossed with the men of her past.

"Goodbye, ma'am," he bids curtly, still irritated. _Please shop here again never._

A few minutes later, Apollo looks down to his wrist and checks his watch. His shift ends in an hour, and then, he and the manager, Mr. Handel, have to close up. He's about to go find said-manager, when he hears a clear, familiar voice cheer in triumph.

"Yes! Oldbag is gone, and the coast is clear, ha ha ha! – the wicked witness of the witness stand; remember those days? Anyway, back to what I was saying, how likely do you think your influence will allow us to get investigation rights to Shay Seville's office? . . . No, she doesn't seem to take to Edgeworth kindly, so he won't be able to help."

 _Fuck, no . . . please, don't tell me_ , Apollo frets in his thoughts, as he sees the familiar blue figure from before approach the register.

Phoenix Wright, dressed in his regular blue suit, has his phone between his raised shoulder and tilted head, so that he can use one hand to hold up the tabloid magazine his nose is buried into, and the other to throw three boxes onto the counter. Apollo can hear the sound of a high female's hesitant voice on the other side of the line.

"You would think that the High Prosecutor's Office co—please, don't even talk about that! Blackquill's being a cocky bastard about the whole thing and Athena's getting all riled up about his refusal to help," he replies complainingly to the person on the other line with a sigh.

Since Mr. Wright's aim is off, the boxes go straight for Apollo, and, so, as a reflex reaction, he holds up his arms to catch them warily—though, he miscalculates his timing, and has them land in the cradle of his arms.

Upon seeing the boxes, more blood rushes to Apollo's already pink face, which must be as red as a tomato now, and he officially decides that this is the worst day ever. Mr. Wright has just tossed at him three boxes of condoms—two being the Pleasure Pack, and the other being the Bareskin Pack. Though it's none of Apollo's business, he can't help but wonder who Mr. Wright is sleeping with.

"Oh, come on, Maya! . . . You're the goddamn Master of Kurain, and you do have political influence, believe or not. Even Edgeworth has said tha—no, Maya, I've heard that she loves this occult kind of stuff!"

Apollo clears his throat a few times as he scans a box of condoms, but Mr. Wright's brows furrow and he simply waves a dismissive hand towards the cashier.

"Please, Maya, we need your help. And we haven't seen you in so long, either. I can't wait to see you. I miss you, too . . . you've been on that fucking mountain for one year now, and we haven't seen you yet. One of these days, Maya, I'm going to end up jumping on a plane to see you; and, trust me, I'll drag you back with me, but before we leave, we're going to—oh, the scrolls of Khura'in be damned! You're going to be spending all of your time with me while I'm there, and when you come back with me! . . . Well, what else is an old man supposed to do? You keep saying you're going to finish training and be back very soon, but I refuse to wait anymore . . . y'know, poor Pearls has been trying to maintain the office's cleanliness since you sent her here with that letter! Ha, ha, ha!"

Apollo's eyes slide to the box, and he almost drops the box in his hands and resists the urge to squeak out the words that flit through his mind in horror. _He's buying three_ _36-packs! Is he a machine? How much sex does he plan to have? Doesn't he know that the condoms here are cheaper because they expire in six months!_

Almost as if he has read Apollo's mind, Mr. Wright lowers the cellphone to his chest and holds a hand up. "Wait!" he calls out, still not noticing the cashier behind the register, and grabs a box. He twists it around a few times, until he is able to catch sight of the expiration date of the condoms, and then shrugs. "Eh, I guess we can finish them by then," he mutters, and then places his phone back to his ear so he can resume his phone conversation about his current case with the elusive "Mystic Maya," Pearl and Trucy have been raving on about for so long to Apollo and Athena. Leaving Apollo in shock over the fact that Phoenix Wright is confident enough to know that he'll be able to use 108 condoms in 6 months.

"Um, t-that will be $35.97," he is only able to splutter out. He's surprised his brain can quickly calculate the total cost with tax, both, without even scanning the other two boxes yet, and with the shock of this encounter with Mr. Wright.

Mr. Wright slaps the magazine closed, and turns away to haphazardly place it on a magazine rack. "Fuck, that's more expensive than the last time I got them here!"

"Ack, Mr. Wright!" Apollo cries out in disgust. "I didn't need to know that!"

Mr. Wright whirls around, stunned. When his eyes land upon his subordinate's mortified face, they widen in horror. "Um, M-Maya, I'll call you back," he says in a rush, quickly cutting the call. "Ah, um, Apollo. I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, I do," he replies in a slightly exasperated, as he brings up the second box of condoms to the scanner. "We don't get paid enough."

Mr. Wright's eyes slide towards the final box that Apollo is scanning and they widen once again. "I'm not buying those! I mean, I am, but t-those aren't mine! No, wait, they are, and I'm buying them, but I mean—"

"Mr. Wright, I don't know, and I don't want to know." He grabs a plastic bag and places the condoms into it. "$35.97, please."

The sound of Mr. Wright's _Steel Samurai_ ringtone plays—Ms. Maya must be calling again— but Mr. Wright ignores it. The tips of his ears are slightly pink, his spit curl has drooped down, and his cheeks are flushed. "Y'know, safe sex is important," he announces awkwardly, his fingertips reaching behind to scratch his neck nervously.

 _To you, apparently VERY important . . ._ Apollo groans at his thought. "Please, Mr. Wright, this isn't easy for me as it isn't for you."

Mr. Wright simply responds by reaching into the pocket of his blue coat and throwing a crumpled twenty-dollar bill and a ripped ten-dollar bill on the counter. He then grabs a handful of change from the pocket of his slacks, and fumbles with the coins in his hand. "We really don't get paid enough," he grumbles, as he splays the quarters, nickels, and pennies on the counter and counts them quickly. "Here," he replies, shoving the extra coins back into his pocket.

"Thanks," Apollo mumbles, as he collects the money, which is the exact change, and hands his boss a receipt and the plastic bag and presses the clear button on the register to indicate that he has finished checking out a customer's purchases and that the register can clear the prices of the items scanned. "Have a good night."

But his goodbye goes to vain as he looks up to see that Mr. Wright has already left.

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading! As for who would be the lucky gal or guy, or both, depending on what you think, benefitting from Nick's purchases . . . I'll leave that up to your imagination, so that you can let me know in a review! ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Cashier Woes**

 **A/N: Hello everyone! So, I came up with a part two (unbeta'd in my rush to post this** _–_ **probably not the best idea, but whatever, haha** _–_ **so I apologize for any errors), due to popular demand, and simply because it's fun to mess around with Apollo the cashier. There is some good news awaiting for you at the end of this installment of** _ **Cashier Woes**_ **, so read on to find out what it is.**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is copyright © 2016 Turnabout Writer. All rights reserved.**

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The child won't stop staring at him.

It's been two days since Apollo encountered Mr. Wright at the store. After that night, Apollo dreaded returning to the office and seeing Mr. Wright; but thankfully, when he came into the office yesterday, Mr. Wright was off investigating a case. Apollo has a suspicion that Mr. Wright had no desire to run into him either.

 _I hope it won't be awkward the next time we –_

Apollo is broken away from his thoughts as his eyes catch the little brunette wriggling around, perhaps, wary of Apollo.

Apollo's eyes sight the mother, a woman with short, dusty brown hair and thin-rimmed glasses. She's small but clumsy, stumbling around the aisles, and occasionally dropping her items that she cradles to her chest with her arm (since, the other arm is held tightly by her little son with cropped black hair). Apollo wants to tell her something, _anything_ , about her daughter – who is currently standing by the register and watching Apollo like he is about to eat her – but she's so invested in scanning the items along the shelves with her eyes that he doesn't think she'll really take her daughter with her.

"Well, great," he grumbles under his breath. Oh, well. If he says something, it will sound rude anyway. After all, he can't just go up to the kid's mother and inform her, _"Ma'am, your child is squirming_ ," right?

He sighs to himself as the girl engages in a strange sort of staring contest with him. Her intense watch on him makes him repeatedly shuffle in his spot. This all goes on until her mother and brother come to the register with their purchases; but even as Apollo scans their items, her stare does not cease.

As the woman fishes her purse for loose change, her son begins to walk towards the register.

Apollo grins and crosses his arms. "Hey, kid," he greets cheerfully. "What's your name?"

The child says nothing, but stares at him with curious eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. He's so shy. Come on, sweetie, say hi!" His mother hands him the rest of the money in change, and Apollo quickly counts as she urges her children to talk to him.

Though the girl says nothing, the boy looks down shyly. "Hi." He looks back up towards Apollo and raises his hand to curl his fingers inward, beckoning Apollo – who has handed the receipt and change to his mother and has his arm now extended towards the woman, the plastic bag with her purchases in his grasp.

Apollo's bright smiles widens as he leans over the counter and crouches down towards the kid, who seems to be more responsive and friendlier than his sister.

The child opens his mouth, but instead of answering Apollo, he lets out a big wail instead, pointing towards Apollo's hair. "Moooooommy!"

"Ack!" _My hair isn't that scary, kid!_

Upon hearing her brother cry, the little girl begins to cry, too. At that same moment, Apollo hears the sound of coins hitting the floor, and then the mother crying out a surprised, "Oh, no!" She crouches down to the ground to pick up the change and receipt, while also trying to hush her children, but failing. When she stands up, she fishes out her wallet out of her purse.

Apollo, all the while, is standing perfectly still with the bag still in his hand. He resists the urge to scream at the kids – he values this job and his life too much to do so, and it would be really malicious of him to do so. He's tired, his head hurts, and he wants to go home. But instead, he gives the woman an encouraging, calming smile. He is about to place the bag down on the counter, and offer lollipops to the kids (on him, of course), when the daughter suddenly breaks her sobs to shriek very loudly, probably at the lack of attention she is receiving from her mother.

Alarmed, his grip on the bag loosens and it falls to the linoleum floor – at least, it was only filled with packs of instant ramen noodles, chips, and peanut butter, and no damage would be done.

Startled by the bag falling, the woman drops her wallet and purse. Keys, gum, baby wipes, dollar bills, lots of coins, and a few cards scatter across the floor. Thankfully, the kids stop their crying and race to pick up all of the coins and other items. She looks up to Apollo with a self-consciously horrified expression on her face. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry! It looks like my unlucky days are back!" she laments.

He sighs, moving around the counter and crouching down to the floor where she is now kneeling. "Don't worry about it. We all have those days." He tries to give her a reassuring smile.

It takes a few minutes to have the woman's belongings returned to their respective places and Apollo give the kids a lollipop each, even though they don't not cry anymore.

He sighs in relief when they exit through the automatic doors outside, and swipes whatever sweat that had formed on his forehead. _That has to have been the most stressful time I've had in trying to ring up someone's purchases._

Oh, god, if all kids and parents are like them, Apollo doesn't want any of it at all.

.

For the next half an hour, Apollo decides that it's time for his break, which simply consists of sitting on a chair behind the "Employees Only" door in the back of the store.

When he returns, he relieves the pharmacist from working on his place at the register and she runs to the back to close the pharmacy for the day. She bids Apollo, who is playing games on his phone, a good evening and leaves.

It is only when Apollo hears the sound of a person sweetly humming, that he looks up from his device.

 _Thonk!_ Apollo feels something fleetingly hit his forehead.

 _Ack, what the hell was that?!_ he thinks to himself, as he tries to rub away the stinging sensation. He hears the clicking of familiar heels approaching and looks up to see his attacker. "Ema!"

Said-detective, donned in her usual attire and lab coat, walks up to the counter, a basket full of Snackoos in one hand, and an opened pack of Snackoos – which Apollo can tell are not from the store since the packaging is Christmas-themed – in the other. "Hey," she greets cheerfully, giving Apollo one of her rare smiles. "Long time no see! What are you doing here?"

"Um, I work here."

Her eyebrows furrow. "Really? Hmm, I was right, then. I'll have to tell the fop that he was wrong." She sighs, leaning over the counter slightly to place her hand on Apollo's shoulder. "I'll admit, kid, you're much better than your replacement. _You_ , at least, have a firmer belief in the power of science. As much as I respect Mr. Wright, I don't know what he was thinking." She then crosses her arms and huffs. "Psychology isn't even a real science," she mutters scornfully.

" _R_ - _Re-Replacement_!?" he screeches, at which Ema flinches. "Ema, Athena Cykes didn't replace me! She is my _co_ -worker!"

"What?! Oh, my gosh!" Her eyes widen and she involuntarily places a hand on the side of her head. "I'm so sorry! But if you're still working for Mr. Wright, why are you here?"

He groans in exasperation. "Well, I need to pay the rent _and_ bills somehow. As much as I'm glad to work with Athena, adding another worker to the office significantly lowers my pay."

"At least, you have a nice partner to work alongside you, and since she's the rookie now, you can teach her the ropes and strategies behind defending a client and being able to investigate crime scenes with the power of some _real_ science, right?" she jokes.

Apollo ignores Ema's jab at Psychology's shaky title as a real science and becomes puzzled by her behavior. She's smiling – she's _happy,_ something she never is. A good-natured Ema Skye is simply a sight for sore eyes . . . not to mention, a blessing to the general population.

"Um, Ema, if you don't mind me asking – and don't take my words the wrong way, please – but why are you so happy?"

"I'm retaking my certification test to become a Forensic Investigator!" She grins happily, a hand pushing her rose-tinted glasses up her head. "And I need study snacks!" She holds up her basket. "So here I am."

"Oh, wow, that's wonderful news, Ema!" Apollo smiles widely. "Good luck!"

She gives another smile. "Thank you, Apollo." She places her basket onto the counter and frowns in thought. "Hmm, I'm not sure if 7 bags are enough. Hold on, I'm going to quickly run and grab another pack."

"Okay," Apollo responds, but Ema is already off to the snack aisle.

Ema does not return immediately, taking her sweet time to decide on her choice of Snackoos, but a few minutes later, it is Klavier Gavin who walks up to the register.

"Ahh, Herr Forehead," he greets, almost purring, making Apollo momentarily wonder if he's trying to be flirty, or if that's just Prosecutor Gavin. He's beginning to hand Apollo a box, his lone purchase, to scan, but Apollo, donning his best poker face, politely asks him to wait. Prosecutor Gavin frowns. "But there's no one here. Can I give you my purchases, please?"

"Erm, I wouldn't if I were you, Prosecutor Gavin. Dete – " But it's too late to warm Prosecutor Gavin, since Ema interrupts Apollo from continuing.

"Well, well, well," her voice calls out distantly, "what do we have here? Hello, fop!"

"Achtung!" He whips his head towards the source. His eyes widen upon seeing the familiar detective starting to walk towards them. "Oh, Fräulein Detective! Hello!" he exclaims, surprised. He turns his head back to Apollo with a scowl. "I didn't expect to see her here," he grumbles under his breath.

"I was going to warn you," Apollo mumbles back, "but did you really not notice the many bags of Snackoos?"

Prosecutor Gavin's eyes widen, and they immediately flit to the counter that is covered with bags and bags of Chocolate Snackoos. "Tch, I can't believe I didn't see it before!" He glances over his shoulder to see that the detective has stopped walking and is wondering which Snackoo flavors to choose from. "Ach, shit, Herr Forehead!" He shoves the box of condoms onto the countertop. "Quickly, scan this box before she returns! She won't let me live this down if she sees this!"

Apollo smirks wryly and crosses his arm. "I don't know if I really should. I mean, poor Ms. Skye was here before you."

"C'mon, Herr Fore – _Apollo_! Please, I'm begging you! Ring me up first!" he begs, both hands clutching the box of condoms pleadingly.

"Ack, okay! Okay!" Prosecutor Gavin probably didn't deserve to face the disdain of Ema Skye. He's about to take the box from Prosecutor Gavin's hands, but it's too late.

"Wait, wait! I was here first, fop!" Ema's breathless voice calls out, as she runs towards the register.

"Fuck, it's too late!" he mutters, the words losing his adapted German-accented. It's the first time Apollo has heard Prosecutor Gavin speak in an American accent.

When Ema approaches, she begins rebuking him irritatedly. "Come on, Gavin! I don't care if you get your way with everything because of your status! It's not going to happen here! I was here fir – " She stops her speech abruptly when her eyes sight the box of condoms. Her mouth twitches in amusement. "The _Ecstasy Pack_ , huh?" A smirk appears on her face. "Interesting purchase, Prosecutor Gavin. Though, honestly, I would have thought of you as a _Platinum Pack_ kind of guy. Through scientific deduction, of course."

"Scientific deduction, my ass," Apollo hears the prosecutor mutters under his breath.

If Ema heard his words, she shows no sign of it. "I'm thoroughly surprised you didn't choose the _Platinum Pack_."

"Erm . . ."

"We don't stock the _Platinum Pack_ for _Trojan_ condoms," the ever-so helpful employee in Apollo supplies cheekily.

Prosecutor Gavin grits his teeth as Ema lets out a snicker. "Thank you for informing us, Herr Forehead," he growls angrily, as he anxiously pushes away his bangs from his forehead with a hand.

"Yes, Apollo, thank you," Ema's eyes are wickedly alight with humor. "No _Platinum Packs_ , huh? I was right, then." She smiles smugly.

But Prosecutor Gavin's eyes flash in irritation. "Fuck me," he mutters, running his fingers through his bangs.

Ema's grinning face flattens to a scowl. "Oh, in your dreams, glimmerous fop! I'm not from your groupies," she states scornfully.

Prosecutor Gavin places his hands on hips and leans down, towering over her. "There are dreams that have become reality, Fräulein, and dreams that will become reality." His voice drops lower. "But there are also dreams that will _never_ become a reality."

Ema's jaw slackens in shock, and Apollo begins to feel his mouth slowly drop open, as well. _Did Prosecutor Gavin just insult Detective Skye for not being able to qualify for the Forensics Department?! I mean, I know they always go back and forth, but that's low, even for him!_

"Y-You asshole . . . fuck you!" She takes a bag of Snackoos from her basket and opens it – Apollo fights back the urge to cry out, since she has not paid for them, and also, he'll have to clean the mess up, afterwards – to begin pelting each bit, one by one, at Prosecutor Gavin, as she speaks through gritted teeth. "I'll have you know . . . I'm retaking the test . . . and this time, I . . . _will_ . . . pass!"

But an unfazed Prosecutor Gavin takes it all in stride. "No, I'm not referring to _those_ dreams of yours, Ema," he assures with a smirk, munching on a Snackoo he caught.

Ema stills, her face taking on a confused look. When realization crashes that Prosecutor Gavin is insinuating that she has dreams of him, she angrily grabs at his biceps and roughly shakes it (since the bag she has opened has run out of Snackoos, and, Apollo assumes, she does not want to waste anymore on him). "I swear on Professor Sir Alec John Jeffreys, I _hate_ you, Gavin!" she seethes.

"Who the fuck is this Professor Jeffreys guy?"

"Say it with _respect_ ," she snaps at Apollo, whose terrified eyes slide over to Prosecutor Gavin's in refuge. "Professor _Sir_ Alec John Jeffreys! He's a very prominent geneticist who made so many advancements in the forensics field." Her voice softens and her eyes start to glaze over in what seems to be delight and nostalgia. "Oh, I was very, very lucky enough to attend one of his lectures while I was studying in Europe."

"He sounds like a very interesting man, Fräulein Detective," Prosecutor Gavin remarks, to which she beams.

The words Trucy had once told Apollo runs through his mind. _They say flattery will get you everywhere._ Prosecutor Gavin ends up flattering Ema enough for her to let him skip her in line when he asks her politely.

"Sure, sure," she answers. "All that matters is that your taste improves, Gavin. And you only have one item, anyway."

As Apollo rings up Prosecutor Gavin's purchase and waits for him to swipe his shiny, black credit card, he hears him speak. "Ema, you know that you're a fun one to tease, right? I don't actually mean to offend you." He turns to smile at her.

Ema stares at him silently for a moment and then gives him a nonchalant shrug. "I don't hate you as much as I say do; I don't hate you _a lot_ , Gavin. Just don't get in my way and none of it all will matter when I'm out of the Precinct."

Apollo hands him the condoms in a plastic bag, and adds the customary line to come again soon. Prosecutor Gavin bids Ema with a two-fingered salute, which she acknowledges with a nod, and then waves to Apollo. "I will see you when the stage is set for our next performance in the courtroom, Herr Forehead."

Apollo nods. "Have a good night, Prosecutor Gavin." He waves him goodbye and watches him stride out the automatic doors.

When he is gone, Apollo turns to Ema and speaks. "Since when has your and Prosecutor Gavin's banter become less offensive to each other? And _why_?"

"Um, about half a year, maybe? And, honestly? I feel bad for him sometimes. I know it's been a little over a year since Vera Misham's trial, but he's still hurting, you know?" Ema turns away from Apollo. "He didn't try to tease me or rile me up for almost a full four months or so. The silence was killing me, so I had to be stupid one day and rile him up purposefully. He _flipped_ out on me – which he did apologize for – but after that, no matter how intense our banter would get, we would stop taking it seriously. I don't know his reason for it, but my reason is that I'm afraid to set him off again. Even just now, I was a little worried that he'd be mad at my jabs at him."

"He was buying condoms, though. I hardly think he would get mad at you for what you said about his condom preferences." Apollo pauses, and then he smiles mischievously. "And, speaking of which, how did you know that he preferred the _Platinum Pack,_ Ema?"

Ema sighs and rolls her eyes. "Apollo, I'll tell you what I told the fop. Scientific deduction."

"Scientific deduction, my ass," he mimics Prosecutor Gavin perfectly, as he begins to scan one Snackoo bag eleven times, so that he does not have to scan the other ten packs.

Ema groans. "You heard that, too, huh? That man has no sense of the power of – "

"Don't change the topic, Ema." Apollo crosses his arms over his chest, stopping his actions of bagging her Snackoos. "How did you know about his preference of condoms?" he interrogates.

"You can't cross-examine the witness without asking for her name and occupation, first," she answers back jokingly. Apollo continues bagging her purchases. "But, anyway, even with The Gavinners disbanding, he's still a glimmerous fop, so, of course, he'll buy the _Platinum Pack_ to match his platinum records and hair." Her tone of voice is playful and not unkind. "I don't have to know him well enough to make such an easy deduction!"

Though Apollo admits that he can't argue with her logic, he can't resist teasing her. "I don't know – you seem to know him _preeeetty_ well. It makes me wonder how well you actually _know_ him."

Ema narrows her eyes accusatorily. "If the accursed word 'biblical' is on the tip of your tongue, Justice, I swear . . . ," she trails off warningly, Snackoo in her hand, poised to flick at Apollo at a moment's notice.

"Ack, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hit me with the Snackoo!" he screams, his eyes widened. He sighs in relief and relaxes when he sees Ema grinning smugly in triumph and bringing the Snackoo to her lips – _MUNCH, MUNCH, MUNCH_ , the sound of the snack in her mouth goes. "But, seriously, Ema, come on, you know _everything_ about the guy!"

Ema frowns and shakes her head. "Ugh, that's where you're wrong! There's one thing that I don't know if I'll be able to understand about him – scientific investigation or no scientific investigation. Tell me, please . . . is that man _gay_ , or _just_ European?" she demands, exasperated.

It's an unexpected question that causes Apollo to burst into a fit of laughter.

* * *

 **A/N: Professor Sir Alec John Jeffreys – yes, that is his full title (don't doubt Ema's knowledge, hehe) – is in fact a famous British geneticist who helped to develop techniques for fingerprinting and DNA profiling. Before his discoveries, surprisingly enough, DNA fingerprinting and profiling were not well-known and used tools in forensic science.**

 **Since you made it this far (and hopefully did not cheat by scrolling down to the bottom before actually reading the chapter), the good news is, there will be a part 3, though it will unfortunately be the final chapter of this story.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Did anyone catch who the mother of those kids was? I guess it is a little obvious when you think about it, but let me know in a review your thoughts on the mystery mother! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Cashier Woes**

 **A/N: Surprise, surprise! I'm actually alive! With the final chapter, no less! I apologize for the long delay, but life has been so busy. I've been done with it for a while, actually, but I've been putting off posting it. I rewrote it a couple of times, too. But now, it's time, and so without further ado, let's get this show on the road!**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is copyright © 2017 Turnabout Writer. All rights reserved.**

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"Justice-Dono," a familiar voice calls out from an aisle, "you keep birdseed around here, yes?" Apollo looks up from the register to see Simon Blackquill strolling towards him. He is dressed in a black t-shirt, track pants, and sneakers, much to Apollo's surprise – it's been nearly a year since Blackquill's acquittal, but Apollo has never seen him outside of his formal attire before.

Blackquill's head is angled slightly towards Taka, so he can stroke his head fondly. "I must keep my companion here well-nourished."

"Um" – Apollo is thrown off by the hawk's presence, since he is pretty sure they have a 'No Pets Allowed' rule, but is a little scared to tell Prosecutor Blackquill, since he will have Taka attack Apollo in response – "check towards the back of the aisle on the right side. You should find some bird seed."

He nods. "Thank you," he replies simply, as he turns back the way he came.

Apollo goes back to flipping through his magazine, humming to himself quietly.

"Hey, Apollo!"

His head tilts up and sees the orange-haired girl in athletic wear. "Athena!" he greets happily, feeling his lips stretch across his face into a smile.

.

 _Ugh, does every cashier have to scan at least one box of these a day or is it just me?_

He raises an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with my purchases, Justice-dono?"

Apollo smirks, and crosses his arms over his chest. "Oh, no, no. It's just . . . I see you are working to master your sword after being imprisoned for so long, Prosecutor Blackquill," he jokes, resisting the urge to cackle. He does manage to let out a chuckle for a moment before choking on it in realization and terror of his words.

 _Fuck! Why did I say that!? He's going to unleash Taka on me for sure, now!_

But Apollo's fears are unfounded, as Blackquill barks a laugh of his own. "I mastered the art of wielding my sword long ago, Justice-dono. It simply became a matter of regularly polishing the blade after my release from the clink. So, what you see now is part of my regular maintenance." He grins wickedly. "And, I do assure you, my choice of polish is quite nice."

Apollo – who at first wants to snicker – ends up grimacing at Blackquill's crude words. It is only because he sees Athena appear behind Blackquill, who has been chugging down her orange juice, widening her eyes and beginning to choke on her orange juice, the acidic beverage bouncing up and down her throat with her coughs.

"Athena!" Apollo calls out in concern, leaning over the counter to reach out to her.

Blackquill, too, immediately whips around to attend to his master's greatest treasure. "Fuck," he curses lowly. "Athena! Are you alright?" As Blackquill pats at her back, Apollo realizes this one of the rare times that he has addressed her by her name – at least, in front of him.

"Simon!" she splutters out, a harsh blush rising to her cheeks and the rest of her face – Apollo can't tell at if she's embarrassed, upset, angry, shocked, jealous, or just scandalized by his crude innuendo. She stares at him in disbelief. "Y-You can't just come out and say things like that in public! I don't know how things worked in prison, but, please, don't go telling everyone about this stuff!" Her face twists into a grimace. "You're . . . guys, I get it. You talk about this stuff with each other, but at least, for my sake, don't spew this stuff out while I'm here!"

Blackquill, though eyes alight with humor, has the decency to smile sheepishly. "My sincerest apologies, Athena." _He has always called her Athena since his release, right?_ Apollo struggles to remember as Simon continues. "I was merely jesting. I didn't mean to upset you," he explains softy, his eyes apologetic.

She sighs. "It's okay."

" **You crude, arrogant, sweet, smooth jerk!** " a mechanical, but animated voice shouts loudly.

Apollo can almost swear that Athena's face grows incredibly redder. "Ah! W-Widget, _shut up_! Ugh, I am sorry about him," she apologizes, as she looks down at her nervously twirling thumbs.

But Blackquill's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Sweet? Thank you, but your little gadget gives a mouthful more of credit than due. The lot of what you think of me is all balderdash . . . except for the 'smooth,' I'd say." He smirks.

" **Don't forget arrogant!** " an angrily red-colored Widget adds, making Athena slap a palm to her forehead.

"Widget, no," she whines, clasping onto the mechanical pendant. "Please, stop. I don't want to have to turn you off." She warns him, as if he can actually understand her.

Blackquill barks a laugh, while Apollo chuckles, feeling slightly embarrassed for poor Athena. "Widget only speaks what you can't bring to your lips." He reaches into his pocket to fish out his wallet, and then, with a grumble, scours his wallet for exact change. He smacks the money onto the counter, which elicits a tsk out of Athena.

Apollo stuffs the receipt in the plastic bag and hands the bag to him. "Have a nice day, Prosecutor Blackquill."

Blackquill greets them both a farewell as well, promising Athena he'll see her tomorrow morning for their run, and cockily warning her to prepared to be outrun by him, a smug glint in his eye.

When he leaves, Apollo can't help but ask, "I know it isn't any of my business, Athena, but what was all that just about?"

She chuckles. "I've taken on the onus of reintegrating him back into society."

"Onus? Geez, Athena, you've been hanging around him too much – you're even starting to sound like him."

Athena is silent in thought for a moment before her lips twitch upward. "What a load of balderdash, Justice-dono!" Her tone imitates Blackquill's deep, growling voice – the impression is so precise that it slightly unnerves Apollo – before her face scrunches in laughter as a sweet giggle escapes her lips. "But, really, I guess I am. But anyway, I had been trying for days to get him to come for a morning run with me, but he kept refusing until I provoked him."

"Provoked him, how?"

"I asked him if he was just scared that he wouldn't be able to keep up with me," she answers cheekily. "It did the trick!" Her grin is infectious, and Apollo can't help but smile as well.

"Wow." He then laughs. "That explains his casual clothing."

There aren't any more customers in the store, so Athena hangs out by the counter and talks to Apollo for a half an hour more or so. Their discussion jumps from Blackquill to cases to what's been happening in Athena's life.

Right as Athena talks about how she argued with her landlord this morning about the rent, a young woman walks into the store slowly, with hesitance. She bites the nail of her thumb nervously as her eyes scan the store.

Apollo recognizes the familiar acolyte garb and her loopy hairstyle immediately. "Pearls!" he exclaims happily.

"O-Oh, hello, Mr. Apollo!" Pearl's eyes widen in surprise. "I didn't know you worked here!"

"Yeah!" He smiles brightly at her. "I've been working here for a while now," he cheerfully informs her.

"Oh . . . I wasn't aware," she answers back in a sheepish voice, which confuses Apollo slightly. "Trucy didn't tell me anything."

"Hey, Pearly!"

"Hi, Athena!" Pearl smiles back at her, suddenly relaxed. It makes Apollo wonder if her behavior towards him is more hesitant because of the lack of men in her village, as Mr. Wright, or if it's something else.

"Getting some stuff?"

"Um, yes." Pearl's blush is faint but visible. "I'll be right back with my purchases." She walks away, and it makes Apollo even more suspicious.

"Oh, she's such a cutie, isn't she?!" Athena squeals.

"Yeah, she is," He replies back distantly, watching Pearls headed towards the . . . the _condom_ _aisle_?!

His eyes widen and he turns his head quickly towards Athena, whose equally shocked face meets his.

"Is she – "

"Did she just . . . ?"

"What the hell is Pearls doing in the condom aisle?" Apollo nearly shrieks. _Is that why she was behaving so strangely? Who is she buying that condom box for anyway?!_ Apollo hasn't heard anything about Pearl having a boyfriend, though. _Does she have a secret boyfriend or something?_ One thing is for certain, though, Mr. Wright (and maybe Ms. Fey) is going to go ballistic if he ever finds out about this. He is extremely overprotective of his two girls, Pearl and Trucy – hell, Apollo is overprotective of them both as well, hence, his current freak-out.

"I don't know, but this is certainly interesting to see." Athena's face is pensive, lost deep in thought.

" _Interesting_?!" he screeches. "Athena, I don't know how this is going to end, but if Mr. Wright finds out we're bearing witness to this, and if I scan that box of condoms and let her walk out of here with them, he's going to have my head on platter!"

" **And yours, too!"** a yellow Widget cries to Athena.

She rolls her eyes, even though her timid facial expressions slightly betray her cool demeanor. "Oh, Apollo, Widget, shut it. Nothing like that is going to happen. Pearly is 18. Naturally, she's going to have sex at this age. I started having sex when I was her age, too."

"W-W-W-What?!" Apollo is shocked by this information.

Athena ignores his outburst. "As long as she's informed, she'll be fine . . . though I can't imagine Miss Maya was able to inform her since she's been training in Khura'in." Her lips then twitch into a devious smile. "Hey, I'll be right back, Apollo." She scrambles away from him.

That's enough to wear him out of his shock to Athena's previous words. "H-Hey! W-Where are you going?" His voice is wary. _Oh, no. What is she planning?_

"You'll see."

Athena walks over to where Pearl stands, which is not very far from the register, so Apollo has a perfect view of them. When she reaches the tiny medium, she taps on her shoulder. "Pearly!" She smirks.

"Oh, Athena." A wide-eyed Pearl blushes deeply at being caught red-handed by Athena. "Have you ever . . .?" She gestures towards the condoms.

"Have I ever had sex?" Athena enquires, slowly, teasingly, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Is that what you're asking me, Pearly?" Her hands are behind her back as she leans towards Pearl.

She reddens more and nods timidly.

"Yes, I have . . . hey, it's okay, Pearly." Athena smiles encouragingly. "I don't mind talking about it, really. I've had sex before. There have been a few men, here and there." Her face then turns grave as a thought occurs to her. "Remember, Pearl, if a man ever tells you that he is clean – "

"Clean?"

"Um." Athena wracks her brain for an explanation. "Clean, as in he has no STDs, or sexually transmitted diseases. Anyway, if a man ever tells you if he's clean, Pearly, never take it for granted. Make him use a condom anyway. And when you get into a committed relationship with a man, get him tested before you decide to have sex with him without the rubber, whether it's for a baby or to have an enhanced experience without condoms."

"O-Okay," Pearl responds meekly, but then, her eyes widen in panic. "Wait, rubber!?" she whispers in shock. "Sex requires rubber!? "

Apollo resists the urge to smack a palm to his forehead. Athena needs to stop terrorizing the poor, innocent Pearl – Ms. Fey should be the one to explain all of this stuff to her when she returns from Khura'in.

"Oh, no, no! I didn't mean to scare you! Condoms are made of a rubbery latex material!" Athena informs her. "Hmm, have you ever considered going on birth control instead, Pearl? Condoms are not a hundred-percent effective as a contraception."

"Athena!" Apollo screeches in protest, scrunching his eyes shut and slapping his palms to his ears.

"Apollo, she needs to know this!" Her voice is muffled to his covered ears.

He lets his hands fall back down to rest on the counter. "C'mon! No one wants to go through with this right now, and I am sure, especially not poor Pearls!"

"But, Apollo!" she complains. "Pearly didn't know what it meant to be _clean_ or what condoms looked like! It seems that she doesn't know much about sex, either, so isn't it sort of my duty to explain it to her?!"

"Actually, Athena – "

"Please, _Pearly_!" she implores.

A thought hits Apollo. "Hey, Athena," he calls out hesitantly, "have you ever considered if Pearl likes girls, instead? That would just defeat the purpose of your speech about condoms, Athena, right?" Though he feels already uncomfortable with the conversation as it is, he can't help but add in his two cents.

Athena gasps, a hand flying to hover over her mouth in surprise. "Oh, no! I didn't even think about that! I'm sorry for being so insensitive, Pearly!"

"No, no, Mr. Apollo!" Pearl squeaks out in protest, moving her hands to cover her reddened face, but peeking at him through her fingers.

Upon seeing Pearl's embarrassed face, Athena tries to reassure her. "You may only be a few months younger than me, Pearly, but you don't have to do anything until you're ready."

Pearl's shoulders slump in relief. "I don't know much about sex, besides its basic mechanics and its purposes," she whispers almost ashamedly. "So, I'm not ready for it, yet."

Athena frowns. "Pearly," she begins hesitantly, "if you're being pressurized to have sex with someone you are in a relationship with – "

An impossibly red-faced Pearl suddenly widens her eyes. "What!? Oh, no, no!" she exclaims, but then begins to drop her voice lower, almost low enough that Apollo can't hear her. "I was only here to buy a pack of pads – I-I just got my period this afternoon. I was just curious after seeing the condoms . . . "

Athena's eyes widen in shock. "What!? Ack . . . ! Pearly!" she cries, her cheeks suddenly flaming in embarrassment. "Why didn't you just tell me that before I opened my mouth!?"

Widget turns a dark indigo in shame. **"She just tainted your sweet, pure soul!"** his mechanical voice wails.

Pearly gasps in surprise at Widget's outburst, while Apollo bursts out into laughter. _Oh, if Mr. Wright and Ms. Fey ever find out about this . . ._

Athena gives Pearl a sheepish smile. "I'm so, so sorry, Pearly."

She shakes her head and then giggles. "It's quite alright, Athena!" She then comes over to the register with her basket.

"Oh, um, here are my purchases, Mr. Apollo." A pack of pads, some pain killers, a deck of cards – probably so she can learn tricks from Trucy – and a packet of purple hair ties. That explains her reaction to seeing Apollo, then. Kurain Village's lack of men must cause her to feel uncomfortable having a man scan her packet of pads.

 _Ah, poor Pearls_ , Apollo thinks pitifully. He shudders at the mere thought of _thinking_ about menstruation, so he can't even imagine what she is going through right now. Not to mention, Athena trying to talk to Pearl about sex and condoms . . . oh, the poor thing.

He quickly adds a chocolate bar in her bag when she's scrambling to find cash. Athena seems to notice, because she grins widely and gives him a thumbs up from behind Pearl.

.

Eventually, it all becomes too much for poor Apollo. His customers become the cause of his failure in retail world. (" _No matter how many times you deny it, Athena, I'm technically working in retail."_ )

The screeching cries of the Byrde-Gumshoe kids – the son and daughter of that perpetually unlucky mother, as he discovers later on – haunt him in his dreams, causing him to act warily around any child that enters the store. Mr. Wright comes in a few more times, too, buying more condoms – making Apollo question if he's " _fucking_ a damn machine or a fucking damn _machine_ " – and trying to get free, or, at the very least, discounted " _grape juice_ " with Apollo's work "commission"; Apollo has to deny his other boss many times of having such a commission. And, most of the other customers that he is at least acquainted with have embarrassed him in some way.

Yes, a handful of Apollo's friends and acquaintances bothered him only for the first couple of times, but some of the customers – like the old bag with the toy gun who started developing a crush on Apollo, surprising him _and_ herself, as he is nothing like the men she speaks and dreams of – were straight-up insistent and _insane_.

Though Apollo isn't exactly sure of the reason why his manager fired him, he thinks Mr. Handel took pity on him because of the customers he had to ring up.

 _Fired out of pity,_ Apollo thinks dryly. _That will be quite a reason to give I'm asked why I was laid off._

 _Everyone_ is going to ask him what happened to his cashiering job. He has to have scanned the purchases of almost everyone he knows. The only people Apollo swears he hasn't seen come into the store are Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth and his adopted sister, the frightening Franziska von Karma and her as equally threatening whip – _thank god_ – and, Ms. Fey (but, hell, she isn't even in the country). Yes, even Winston Payne made an appearance at one point to buy prescription hair loss treatments; it was mortifying for Apollo, but even more embarrassing for the "rookie-killer," once he realized who his cashier was behind the register.

 _. . . Never again will I go into retail. I'm only cut out for law._

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 **A/N: And with that, we can finally put this little baby to rest! Thanks for reading and for all of the love, reviews, favorites, etc.! I hope you enjoyed this tiny story! I intend to publish and update more stories, so stay tuned! :)**


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